


A Star For You

by reveriemalfoy (im_reverie)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Bottom Draco, First Time, Hogwarts Era, I think it's a happy ending at least, M/M, Minor Character Death, Oneshot, Smut, Sorry I know they aren't 18 but the circumstances just happened okay, Thestrals, Top Harry, Virgin Draco, Virgin Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 05:49:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11329809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_reverie/pseuds/reveriemalfoy
Summary: Harry wanted Draco to go to the Yule Ball with him. Draco wanted a star.





	A Star For You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CieliaValentine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CieliaValentine/gifts).



> I wrote this as a gift to my friend, Cielia. I meant to write a very light, fluffy story about how Harry wanted to make a star to seduce Draco and get him to go to the Yule Ball with him. But me strikes again with the angst and I spent two days writing this. I didn't expect it to go that way, but I don't regret it. Turned out to be a good story.
> 
> I've never written anything this fluffy before, if this counts as fluffy. Because I usually write some dark shit, if you've read any of my other stuff. I strongly recommend reading 1984 even though it's a WIP, I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but it was the one I orignally intended to gift to Cielia before I realised that it was going to take 934714714 years to finish it. Liberty is also being finished. 
> 
> I apologise for the unprecedented length for my friend who was probably expecting a nice, fluffy 5k or something. I hope I'm not taking too much of your time. 
> 
> Cielia makes amazing art on her tumblr, so please do check her out, if you don't already know her.  
> Her url is https://fae-voritensfw.tumblr.com 
> 
> You can find me at im-reverie.tumblr.com or hmu on twitter @im_reverie 
> 
> HAVE FUN CIELIA LOVE U

“No.”

"I haven't even asked you anything yet." 

"Noted. But I also saw that you were talking to your little friends back at the Great Hall while all three of you proceeded to stare at me. You Gryffindors do not have an ounce of subtlety in your veins. It fascinates me how you people ever keep secrets from one another.” Draco rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe that Potter would be _this_ simpleton. I mean, surely, if the Goblet spat his name out, there must be some kind of reason behind it 

“We usually don’t.” Potter replied matter-of-factly. 

“That explains a lot. Now, if you’ll move out of the way, I have matters to attend to.” Draco proceeded to move, but was blocked by Potter. 

“You still haven’t even listened to me ask you.” Potter’s determined gaze bore into him, and Draco sighed. Of course he wouldn’t be let off this easy. This was Potter. 

“You have the most minimal amount of my attention. Proceed.” Draco snapped, but Potter seemed relentless. Without even flinching or trying to fight, Potter simply looked straight at him and asked, “Would you like to go to the Yule Ball? With me.” Draco, dumbfounded, stood frozen on his spot.

“What?”

“I said, would you like to go—” Draco cut him off, since Potter was being yet again slow on catching social cues. “I heard you the first time, Potter. Is this a joke? Did you get tricked into doing this by your little friends? Spill.” 

“It’s actually quite real. I’m asking you, Malfoy, to accompany me to the Yule Ball. We all need a date, don’t we?” At that, Draco felt the heat rush through his veins. Saint Harry Potter — did he think Draco _needed_ a date? Was Draco Malfoy such an unthinkable person for a date that it worried Saint Potter enough to provoke him to ask such impossible questions? If that was the case, Draco wasn’t letting him off that easy.

“Fine.” Draco declared. Potter was looking down at the floor before he snapped back up in an instant, his eyes widening behind those spectacles. “Wait, for real?” Potter confirmed, his face clearly indicating his astonishment. _Gryffindors_. You could read them easier than a children’s textbook. 

“Fine. But—” Draco held out a finger, “Only if you catch me a star.” Draco deadpanned, and Potter simply looked disconcerted. 

“A…. star?” Potter reaffirmed, and Draco gave him a terse nod. “Like…. from up there?” Potter’s fingers pointed up towards the ceiling, and Draco rolled his eyes. “No, silly, from down here. _Of course from up there_ , where do you think stars exist? I want one shining, glittering star before the Yule Ball and you’ll get to be my date. No tricks.” With that, Draco left, leaving Potter bemused, and Draco never felt more satisfied in his entire life. 

 

*

 

“I need a star.” Harry proclaimed as he stormed into the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione and Ron just looked at him as if he grew a second head. 

“A star…..what?” Hermione clarified. Harry shook his head. 

“Not a star something. I need an actual star. From up there.” He pointed towards the ceiling. A moment of silence passed. 

Hermione and Ron broke into uncontrollable laughter. 

“Oh Merlin, you’ve really lost it haven’t you?” Ron said while doubling over on the couch, “I mean, mate, I really thought you lost it by the time you told me you fancied Malfoy out of all people but now I feel more at ease — maybe you don’t like Malfoy, you’ve just gone a bit over your head!” Ron kept laughing, but Hermione stopped, noticing Harry’s dejected expression. 

“Wait, wait, wait, Ron, stop it. Stop it!” Hermione walked over to where Harry was standing. “Harry, care to tell us? I promise we won’t laugh, won’t we, Ronald?” Hermione assured as she glared over to where Ron was, who quickly sucked in a breath and nodded. It was an unspoken rule not to mess with Hermione when she used people’s full names. 

“I swear I wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t for Malfoy. I.. I asked him, I asked him to go to the Yule Ball with me, and he said fine,” Hermione and Ron’s eyes widened significantly, but they didn’t say anything. “But he wants me to get a star for him. A real star.” Hermione sympathetically looked at Harry’s downhearted expression before something sparked in her eyes. 

“Oh! I’ve got it!” Hermione clapped her hands. “You can’t possibly _get_ a star — even if you’re an admirable flyer, Harry, you’d die trying to exit the Earth. And I know you fancy him, but you can’t die for him. But with magic and some muggle science, it is entirely possible that you can make one. Down here.”

“I’ve studied a bit about star formation back when I was in Muggle schools. Although it wasn’t technically my grade material, but I was just simply curious,” Hermione continued, “Stars are born within the clouds of dust and scattered throughout most galaxies. Turbulence deep within these clouds gives rise to knots with sufficient mass that the gas and dust can begin to collapse under its own gravitational attraction. As the cloud collapses, the material at the center begins to heat up.” 

“And so what happens…?” Ron asked, his expression showing no form of enlightenment of any kind. “Well, the center heats up to become this core, and that’s the heart of the collapsing cloud that will one day become a star. That, I believe is called a protostar.”

“Okay, but how do we make it? We don’t have clouds on the ground, last time I checked.” Harry frowned, confused. 

“Oh, honestly, don’t you two read? What are clouds made of?” 

“George told me once that clouds were Boggarts, but in their free form, before anybody can encounter them.” Hermione rolled her eyes fondly at Ron. “Obviously not, you can still see clouds, imagine if they were Boggarts, Ron — there would be spiders _everywhere_ for you.” Ron’s face paled as he squeaked, “I don’t like spiders.”

“Well, clouds are made of tiny drops of water or ice crystals that settle on dust particles. So what we essentially need to do is spray water into the air, continue to hit it with a freezing charm, and then solidify them, pack them up bring them down here, and make them collide with one another violently enough to create a heated core. And then we can add a few charms here and there to give it a more star-like quality.” Hermione concluded, and she looked to Harry and Ron. “Does that sound good?”

“And we’re doing all this so Harry can go to a bloody dance with Malfoy?” Ron whined a little, but Hermione shushed him. 

“It’s not just a dance, Ron. Harry _fancies_ him. It would obviously mean more than just a dance. I must admit I don’t particularly know why, but he _fancies_ him and Harry is our best friend. And friends support each other in every way they can,” Hermione lectured. “And besides,” Hermione turned to look at Harry, giving him a meaningful look, “You haven’t seen the way he looks at him.” Harry’s eyes broadened before he flushed and opened his mouth to defend himself, but Hermione beat him to it. 

“Shush, don’t deny it. Let’s go, boys, grab your broomsticks. We’ve got some _clouds_ to make.”

 

*

 

“What are those three idiots doing up there?” Pansy exclaimed as Draco and she passed by the Quidditch Pitch. “Where?” Draco asked, not fully paying attention to what she was saying. He was still a bit preoccupied about what occurred this morning, when Potter approached him asked his hand to the dance. He was still unable to surmise to a proper conclusion when he saw Potter and the Weasel on broomsticks. Weasley was shooting water in the air, and Potter was putting a charm on them. And from down below, Granger appeared to be shooting some kind of spell up at it, making the fogs that erupted from Weasley and Potter’s admittedly strange act solidify into little cubes of something. Draco observed, but could not determine any solid motive behind what the Golden Trio were up to. 

“I’ve no idea.” Draco simply replied, not knowing anything about a motive behind a person’s action so unlike him. It was a fair truth, that, since he might have been able to figure it out had he been less distracted. Pansy gave him a strange look. “This is about you and Potter, isn’t it?” Pansy caught on right away, although Merlin knows how. 

“I saw you this morning, you were talking to him,” Pansy noted, “You had that expression you get when something’s going on, especially if something’s going on with Potter.” Draco huffed and continued to walk past the Quidditch Pitch. “Not to be politically correct with you, but it was him talking to me, rather than me talking to him.” Pansy snorted at Draco’s reply. 

“Oh, please. You and I both know that it doesn’t matter.” Pansy retorted, and Draco simply chose to conveniently ignore that statement, because she was right and he didn’t have the upper hand at the moment. “I’ve known about your little crush on Potter since we were _children_ , Draco. You can’t go cherrypicking what you talk about, now. Not when I’m having this much fun.” At that, Draco turned around sharply and put on the most menacing glare she could. Pansy seemed to recognize that glare, but she didn’t seem a bit fazed, but rather a bit worried. That was even more terrifying. Slytherins never opted to worry about another unless it was something of grave significance. 

“You know, Draco, it was all good and fun when you had a cute little crush on him,” Pansy frowned, “Now it’s not very funny anymore. You can’t possibly fall for Potter. You know who he is. He’s… he’s not like us.”

Draco scowled, pushing past her. He didn’t need a lecture right now. Did she think he didn’t know that Potter and he ran on parallel lines? He was rather painfully aware of that fact. That didn’t bloody change anything, though. Potter was never going to take him remotely seriously, and going to this ball would just be making the joke _public_. _The posh boy falls for the hero_ , how classic. They don’t keep secrets up at Gryffindor Tower apparently, he was sure that Potter would already have given all his little friends the sordid details of their encounter this morning, how Draco flamed and answered with an ultimatum rather than simply saying no. Draco knew the right thing was to just say no, that would save a lot of people — mostly himself — but Potter was all _‘we all need a date’_ and that set him off. It pissed him off enough to tell Potter to catch a star for him. He didn’t even want a star. 

“Draco.” Pansy slowly approached him from behind, the heels of her shoes clicking on the stone pavement as she carefully made each step. She put her hand on his left shoulder benignantly, which was very rare for Pansy. _Is this what Slytherin loyalty is supposed to be — sympathetic touches,_ Draco thought to himself. 

“I know it’s been difficult since… since _you know_. But maybe this isn’t the right way to distract yourself.” Draco immediately brushed off Pansy’s hand from his shoulder, turning around sharply. “Don’t you _dare_ say it like that — that isn’t something you can just replace with two vague one-syllable words. My mother died, Pansy. She _died_.” 

Pansy, for the first time ever, lost every bit of her usual haughtiness and confidence. She looked like a lost kitten. Despite himself, Draco sighed and relented. “I don’t talk about it anymore. And it’s _not_ a distraction. You of all people should know that — why are you treating my emotions like it’s a fucking _defense mechanism_?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Draco, I know you fancied him from a long time ago, but it’s just recently ever since… ever since your mother passed away, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. I just thought…” Draco put his hand up, signaling her to stop. She conceded. 

“It’s nothing like that. I’m not a fucking piece of glass, Pansy. I am capable of multiple emotions. If I can be pained about my mother and survive, I can survive being pained about _him_.” Draco spat, and Pansy simply remained reticent. Draco let out a soft sigh.

“Pansy.” Draco whispered.

“Yes?” Pansy answered instantaneously. 

“What would you do if you fall for a star?” 

*

 

“Well, stars aren’t going to just fall for us, you know.” Hermione pointed out as Harry and Ron grumbled about being soaked down to the core with water. Harry knew making clouds would not be easy, but he also didn’t really anticipate the getting-soaked-down-to-your-pants part. _But it was worth it_ , he reminded himself. 

“We’ve got the cloud particles, now we just have to cast a spell on them to heat them up. We’re going to need all the power we can get to make a protostar, so we all have to do it. I think the right thing to do would be to,” Hermione articulated as she looked through a Potions textbook, “use a fireproof cauldron, put the particles in, and we _incendio_ it. Together. That should, hopefully, get us a protostar.” Hermione concluded, snapping the Potions textbook closed. 

“Well, how long do we have to _incendio_ the bloody thing?” Ron asked, obviously not happy with the situation. Hermione frowned, debating the notion in her head. “Well, the circumstances are a bit bizarre, so I can’t say the exact calculations. But I know that some stars take eons to form, so even with the help of magic to speed things up a bit, I do think it’s going to take a while.” Hermione determined. 

“Well, do you think we can make it ‘till the ball?” Harry asked, worry lining his face. Hermione appeared troubled. “I don’t know, Harry. I can’t say for sure.” Harry’s face fell, but Hermione put her hand on his shoulder, consoling him. “But we will try our best. You’re our best friend, and we don’t want to see you upset. And besides,” Hermione crouched down and whispered, “I don’t think it’s really the star that matters.”

 

*

 

“It’s been two weeks since we’ve _incedio’d_ this bloody thing. That can be translated into 14 days, 336 hours, or 20,160 minutes. Take your pick.” Ron grumbled, sounding a little bit too precise for his usual self. It only showed he’d been counting. 

“Ron, it’s a star, not a potion. It obviously is going to take more than a few weeks.” Hermione chided, but she didn’t sound terribly sure of herself either. Harry looked at both of his friends, who looked weary and fatigued. They’ve literally been at this whenever they could. Sometimes Harry didn’t even sleep, he took his invisibility cloak and went into the potions room, putting all of his strength into the _incendio_. He was surprised how that cauldron could hold up — he wondered what it was made of, and made a mental note to ask Hermione about it later on.

“Look. You guys go to bed, I’m going to stay here.” Harry announced, gesturing to both of them. Hermione emerged conflicted, but he could tell she wanted some rest, she was just too nice to say so. “Mate, we can stay—” Ron started, but Harry stopped him. “No, Ron. Hermione. I really appreciate it, and I love you both, but I have to do this alone. This was supposed to be me from the first place.” Ron and Hermione seemed to contemplate for a few moments before Hermione slowly nodded and walked towards him. 

“You know, I understand. But please just know that we will be here, always. Don’t ever think you’re alone in this. Not in this…and also not in everything _else_. We’re here.” When Hermione met his eyes, Harry knew exactly what she was talking about when she said ‘everything else.’ The second task was coming up, which he had been stoutly ignoring for a long time. It was mostly because he had not a first clue what was going to happen so it wasn’t like he could prepare for something he didn’t know. But it still nagged him at the back of his mind anyways. The egg was there, but the screeching sound most definitely did not help. Hermione and he tried everything, but there seemed to be no answer. 

“I… Thank you. I really appreciate it. I really do. I’d be lost without you guys.” Harry smiled and hugged his best friends. His best friends were his cornerstone, and they always kept him on the ground. He'd truly be lost without them. 

“I’ll get back in a moment, you guys go ahead first. I have the cloak, don’t worry.” Harry reassured them, mostly Hermione, and watched them as they left. 

After Hermione and Ron left, Harry cast the strongest _incendio_ he could. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he thought he saw an unmistakable shock of white-blonde hair. 

 

*

 

A week had gone by again. Harry couldn’t be arsed about anything in class, so during class he focused on how to get the bloody egg to tell him something he needed to know to, well, preferably _not die_ during the second task. The rest of the time he spent casting _incendio_ on the bloody cauldron. They did put it under a permanent warming and statsis charm so the heat never subsided, and when they levitated the cauldron, the particles now seemed to be forming together into some sort of a glowing, hot substance. It seemed to be working, but it was taking its sweet time.

And tomorrow was the Yule Ball. 

Harry sighed, and looked despairingly at the Cauldron. Sometimes, as drained his magical core of its energy casting the spell, he wondered why he fell for the blonde. It wasn't a long time ago. To be exact, it was exactly this year.

It was after the Goblet had spat his name out. Harry had been so frustrated and angry — he didn’t want _eternal glory_. But fate liked to play games on him and of course the Goblet had to draw his name. Of course the rules couldn’t be changed. Of course it was bloody _him_. 

And even Ron was being a dick about it back then. He did come around after Hermione shook some sense into him and he was being as supportive as ever, but Harry had never felt so alone at that time.

Alone and bitter, Harry had walked into the Forbidden Forest, just to clear some things out of his mind. He was walking and walking without any real destination before he heard a voice. He stopped mid-track, hiding midst the trees. He looked towards the source of the voice, and he saw him — there was only one person he knew that had blonde hair that shone white in the moonlight and it was Draco Malfoy. His instinct was to suspect, to see if Draco was up to something. So Harry stayed silent and he watched. 

Malfoy was talking to some creatures — he recognized them from somewhere, but he couldn’t quite place a name to them. They looked like Dragons, but much more gaunt and they looked a lot less… _hostile_. He remembered — _Thestrals_. He recalled Luna talking about them once, she said that they were misunderstood creatures. _Misunderstood_ , Harry thought, _it was somewhat fitting that Draco was there_. He also knew that Thestrals could only be seen by people who have seen death. It was no wonder that Harry could see them, of course, but why was Malfoy here? 

Malfoy fed some meat to the Thestrals, petting them. Harry thought he gone blind — this was Malfoy, who hated creatures, and he was feeding Thestrals. The world didn’t make sense anymore. 

“Mother used to love you creatures. Mother said she felt special, like she was the only one who could see you. I’m sure my father could see you too, but he didn’t really _see_ you, you know?” Draco sighed as he moved onto feed another Thestral, a smaller one this time. Harry thought for a second Draco was talking to him, but let out a small breath of relief. But he also was having difficulty grasping the idea of Draco Malfoy talking to a Thestral in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. 

“Now she’s gone, and… I can see you too, now. I feel more connected to her, when I see you. Feels like reliving a part of her that she cherished so much. Feels special. Like I’m the only one that knew her.” Draco slowly crouched to the small creature, and he petted it as it happily ate the meat that Draco gave. Draco smiled fondly at the creature, but there was sort of a melancholy vibe about it, and Harry swore he could see tears flowing down his pale cheeks, luminous in the moonlight. 

“You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were dragons. I was so scared. I saw a few them before, quite recently, but I don’t think I’m going to be the one seeing them.” Draco chuckled lowly. Harry thought Draco looked so much more attractive when he didn’t put all his guards up like he always did in front of Harry. He found himself wishing he could bring out that side of him. 

“Harry Potter.” Draco said his name, and Harry froze. His heartbeat quickened rapidly, but he remained where it was. “Harry Potter will face those dragons. Of course it’s Harry Potter.” Draco muttered, but there wasn’t the usual spiteful bite to his voice, the one he usually had when he was talking about Harry. 

“I don’t know what I am going to talk to if _he_ dies, too,” Draco uttered, his voice laced with despondence. After a brief moment of silence, he stood upright, and moved towards the bigger Thestral. “I wonder if he can see you.” When Draco said that, his voice held a strange sort of reverence, and his voice almost felt warm and yearning. 

Harry saw Draco’s hand stroking the back of the Thestral, the tendons of his fingers flexing along the curve of its back. He had his eyes closed and his face was illuminated by the moonlight. He was beautiful.

The summer breeze tickled his cheeks and the bittersweet aroma of the forest wildflowers engulfed him, and Harry fell in love. Stars have never shone brighter. 

 

*

 

It was the day of the Yule Ball. Harry got ready mechanically, sat there motionless as Hermione battled with his hair. He probably should have told her not to bother with it, but Hermione was Hermione and she could never be told what to do. 

“Harry, if you want, I can always—” Hermione started, but Harry cut her off, knowing what she was about to offer. “No, Hermione. Viktor Krum asked you to the dance. Are you mad? You are not going with me.” Harry smiled goodheartedly, although it did feel a little bit forced. Hermione just looked pained and tried to win the never-ending battle that was his hair. 

“Hermione, you know it’s not going to work. I’d better get going.” Harry stood, leaving Hermione perturbed, which he did feel bad about, but he just couldn’t, not right now. “Sorry.” He muttered as he left. He opened the door, only to crash into a certain someone. Cedric Diggory. 

“Look, Harry,” Cedric started without preamble. “Yes?” Harry asked, a bit irritated. “I.. Harry, I know you probably don’t really want to talk at the moment, but…” Cedric looked around, to check if anyone was listening. “Maybe take the egg, and go for a swim or something. Maybe it’ll help clear your mind.” With that, Cedric left immediately, his face brightening as he saw Cho. 

Harry was thoroughly confused for about three seconds, and then his eyes widened. _Oh_. The egg had to be put _underwater_ — of course! 

“Mate—,” Ron came towards him, but he had to go, _now_. “Sorry, mate, later,” Harry rushed out, leaving Ron bewildered. Harry ran to the Gryffindor Common Room, shucking his dress robes the minute he got there, and grabbed the egg, and darted to the Forbidden Forest. As much as he didn’t fancy a swim in the Great Lake, it was about all he could think about at the moment. 

He ran with all his might into the Forbidden Forest, towards the Great Lake, and stopped short when he realized he wasn’t alone. 

“Potter.” That voice — he could recognize that voice anywhere. 

“Malfoy.” He turned around, spotting Draco in his dress robes, alone. 

“What are you doing here, I thought you were at the dance.” Harry asked, confused. “I could ask you the same question.” Malfoy replied. 

“Well, I had some stuff come up. And I didn’t exactly have a date, if you recall.” Harry bitterly remarked. He expected Malfoy to say something back in return, but Malfoy just looked resigned and said, “Yeah, I’m… I’m sorry about that.”

“You serious? You’re _sorry_? Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?” Harry asked incredulously. Draco even laughed at that a little. “I don’t know, why don’t you ask him when you see him?” Draco suggested. Draco was joking _with_ him. Harry didn’t know what was real anymore. 

“But you’re wrong, Potter.” Draco said, stepping closer. “You _do_ have a date.” Harry frowned. “But I… I didn’t get a star.” Draco laughed at Harry’s disarray. 

“You _did_.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows. What did he mean, he did? Did he see that time he was _incendio’ing_ the hell out of the bloody cauldron? Did that even count? He still didn’t _finish_ it.

“Oh _Merlin_ ,” Harry groaned. “Tell me you didn't see that.” It was Draco’s turn to look confused. “See what?” 

“I.. I didn’t know how to get a star, but Hermione and I thought we could make one. I was… for the past three weeks or so… trying to make a star. I thought I saw you when I was casting _incendio_ that one night. I thought you might've seen that.” Draco’s eyes widened significantly.

“What? You _bloody moron_ — you were making a fucking star? I thought… I thought it was for the Second Task or something. All this time, you were making a star… for _me_?” Draco spoke, his voice laced with a certain reverence, just like that night he saw him with the Thestrals. 

“Umm…. Yes. I’m sorry, I couldn’t finish it, I tried, _we_ tried, but—” Harry tried to explain, but he was cut off by Draco closing the distance between them, sweeping him into a kiss. Harry’s eyes widened and he stood still for a moment before he relaxed into the kiss, putting one arm around the back of Draco’s neck and the other around his waist, pulling him in. It was so sudden and so unexpected and so… _ethereal_. It was everything that he could have asked for. His lips were warm under his, molding in perfectly with his. They kissed for a while, until they felt the need to breathe. 

“You’re a bloody idiot, you know that?” Draco whispered as they parted. “Yes, you keep reminding me.” Harry smiled like the said idiot. 

“I didn’t need a _star_. I just… I just needed you to be serious. I thought… I thought it was a joke, or pity, or something… I didn’t want it. Not like that.” Draco admitted. Harry reached out to touch Draco’s face, amazed that he could now do this. Draco tensed at first but relaxed into his touch. His skin felt soft and warm in the chilly air of the night. 

“And you can still get me a star,” Draco smirked. “Look up.”

Harry looked up, and he saw dozens of lights floating around in the air. Fireflies. “Fireflies.” Harry murmured. 

“Is that what muggles call them? Well, here we call them,” Draco stepped closer, leaning into whisper in his ear, “ _Stars_.” 

“You mean all this time all I had to do was get a bloody firefly? You are an insufferable git, Malfoy, you could’ve specified, you know. And all this time I was making a piece of a  bloody celestial body—” Draco chuckled and pulled him into another kiss, this time brief. 

“I mean, it wasn’t like I planned this entire thing out. I may be a Slytherin but I don’t have a list of _things I can use to mess with Potter_ in my head. Don’t be so full of yourself.” Draco teased, and Harry raised one eyebrow. “Oh, you don’t? I’m _offended_. I thought you had entire catalogue of things for messing with me.” 

“When I said it, I meant it. I was thinking of that particular star, _yes_ , the one in the sky, but I was generous enough to allow some loopholes around it, wasn’t I? You were the one who couldn’t figure it out.” Draco said haughtily, as if it was entirely Harry’s fault. Harry just rolled his eyes fondly and pulled him in for another quick peck on the lips. 

“Well, I promised, and I keep my promises.” Harry held out his hand. “ _Accio_ Firebolt!” In just a few moments, Harry’s Firebolt came zipping into the forest, safely landing in Harry’s hands. 

“Let’s go for a ride, shall we?” Harry said, mounting the broom, gesturing Draco to hop on behind him. “In the _stars_.”

Draco looped his arms around Harry’s waist, feeling the blush rise to his cheeks as he held on tight, probably a bit tighter than it was strictly necessary, but it was chilly and Harry was warm and sturdy and…. it was _him_. 

On the night of the Yule Ball, they flew midst the stars. Harry even caught one and handed it to Draco, who laughed and said, “ _Finally_.”

 

*

 

Luckily, Harry didn’t have to go for that dreadful swim in the Great Lake after all, because he managed to smuggle the password for the Prefects’ bathroom (with a little help from a certain Slytherin) and he managed to get the clue just the same. But getting the clue itself was not much a help since he finally understood that he was going to have to be underwater for more than just a few minutes, and the last time he checked, he didn’t have gills. 

“Then get some,” Draco suggested one day as they sat together by the Great Lake, hands entwined. “What?” Harry turned his head to face Draco at the insane suggestion. “Gillyweed. Honestly, Potter, do you even attend Herbology lessons?” Harry must’ve still looked confused, since Draco started to explain. Harry realized having Draco around was like having a blonde, male, attractive but irritating Hermione. 

“ _Gillyweed_ , Potter, like the rest of us learned in Herbology, is a magical plant native to the Mediterranean Sea. When it is eaten by a [witch](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Wizardkind) or wizard, one grows gills and webbing between the fingers and toes, allowing them to process [oxygen](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Oxygen) from [water](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Water) and navigate underwater more easily. Honestly, Potter. You would _die_ without me.” Draco lectured, his voice sounding like his usual sarcastic self but Harry could catch the way it shook when he said the word _die_. Harry tightened his hold on Draco’s hand. 

“I’m not going to die, you know.” Harry said, looking out at the Great Lake. Draco was also looking at the Great Lake, as if it was going to be the end of him. “How the hell do you know?” Draco retorted sharply. Harry chuckled. “It’s obvious isn’t it?” Harry answered, “I’m Harry Potter. I don’t know how to.” 

“Well, I hope your exuding confidence doesn't run off away in the Great Lake, Potter. You’re most definitely not allowed to die on me.”

“I told you,” Harry said, leaning into Draco, “I don’t know how.” Harry turned Draco’s head around so that he was facing him. “But I think I know how to do some other things, want to see?” Harry smirked, and Draco flushed. 

They didn’t come back from the lake for a long time. 

 

*

 

Turns out, it really wasn’t Harry that had to fear his life. When Harry got to the bottom of the lake, his heart stopped. There were people floating in there. People including Draco. There was Fleur’s sister, Hermione, who was taken by Krum just minutes before Harry, Cho, and Draco. He freed Draco immediately, his hands shaking with worry, but hesitated before leaving with Draco. Fleur was disqualified — he couldn’t leave her sister in the lake like this. So he sent Draco up first, making sure the he reached the surface. Then, he dove in again to go look for Fleur’s sister. 

 

*

 

Everything was cold. When Draco finally gained consciousness, he was cold and wet and surrounded by people cheering. He was in the Great Lake. Second Task. Harry mentioned about them taking someone’s post precious thing. _Oh_. Dots connected together. He was flattered that he was Harry’s most treasured possession, but Harry was nowhere to be seen. He was pulled to shore by the staff and Pansy was instantly on him, putting a towel around him, asking him if he was okay. That wasn’t the issue right now. 

“Where is he?” Draco asked, “Where is he, Pansy?” 

“I don’t know, Draco, he brought you up and then he just went back in again. I think he went back to grab Fleur’s sister. She got disqualified.” Surely enough, right to the corner, he could see Fleur, her blonde hair darkened due to the water, shivering in worry. 

“That bloody _idiot_ ,” Draco groaned. Of course Potter would go and save Fleur’s sister. It was as predictable as the ending of a children’s book. _But that didn’t make him any less of an idiot_ , Draco thought. 

“Draco, just…. he’ll be okay. He’s Harry Potter.” _People seemed to relying on that a bit to much these days_ , Draco thought, _one day it just might run out of its charm._

Minutes passed by, but Potter was still nowhere to be seen. Draco knew that the Gillyweed would not hold up for much longer. If it ran out and Potter was still at the bottom of the lake, he would surely drown. 

“I’m going in,” Draco decided. Pansy’s eyes widened. “No, Draco, you can’t! You’re going to be breaking about a million rules!” Draco didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything else.

“I don’t care, he’s in there, and I love him!” Draco exclaimed, and Pansy gasped. “Draco…” Pansy said, almost inaudibly. “You love him.” Draco didn’t bother with Pansy and proceeded move towards the water. Just as he was about to dive in, a figure shot out of the water, flipping once in midair, only to crash into Draco. It was him. Draco felt could almost die in relief even as the air was knocked out of his lungs with the impact of the fall. 

“Watch where you’re going, Potter,” Draco said, his voice coming out as more of a croak due to Potter’s weight pressing him down. Potter, recognizing his voice, snapped up and met Draco’s eyes, still straddling him. He was soaking wet and shaking, but Potter still looked every bit the hero that he was meant to be. 

“Malfoy.” Potter’s smile almost blinded Draco with its brightness. Potter pulled Draco up to a sitting position and held him close. They were both soaking wet and cold, but they warmed each other up and that was just enough. The crowd roared in the background, but neither of them heard anything. 

 

*

 

Before the third task, they had sex. 

It wasn’t a spontaneous hookup and it wasn’t a decision made out of the heat of the moment. It was a grave decision and one they both knew was going to have consequences. But they had to — it might just be the first and the last time.

“Look, um, I’ve never…” Harry mumbled, suddenly shy that he was about to do this, right here on Draco’s bed. He couldn’t quite meet Draco’s eyes, but he did look to see Draco just as fumbling and lost as he was. “Have you…?” Draco immediately shook his head. “You’re my first.” Draco admitted, and Harry felt the heat rush to this stomach at that knowledge. 

“Do you know what you like?” Harry asked, praying to whomever that Draco knew. Draco just kind of shrugged and said, “When I wank, I usually use my fingers. You know, um, back there, so…” Harry thought that was a good enough answer. “Okay, then, um, I’ll do it this time. You just… show me what you like.” Harry smiled, hoping that would ease the tension. “Is that okay?” Harry confirmed, just in case.

Draco remained still for a moment, looking down. But when he looked up, he had that confident and snarky smile again, the one that Harry knew so well.

“Oh, no, Potter,” Draco pushed him down on the bed, straddling him. “I’ll show myself in.” Harry could have come from just that statement alone. 

Draco dove in to kiss Harry, but it wasn’t like the other ones they shared. Their usual kisses were soft, loving, and even adorable at times. This — this was a kiss meant for privacy. A kiss that no one should be allowed to see. Draco’s tongue entwined with Harry’s, and the warmth of his kiss made Harry’s toes tingle. Draco explored his mouth thoroughly, as if he wanted to memorize the taste. 

As he kissed him, Draco made a move to remove Harry’s Gryffindor tie, untying it with a suave grace that Harry would never be able to manage in a hundred years. “ _Mhmm_ ,” Harry moaned, turned on by the gesture. Draco chuckled against his lips, and lightly bit them, earning another moan from Harry. Draco still sat on his lap, his knees on each side of his hips, straddling him. He looked down at Harry and removed his own tie in a single movement, throwing it carelessly off to the side. Harry had never seen anything sexier in his life. Harry’s fingers made a move to unbutton Draco’s shirt, and he watched as each button removed unveiled a strip of marble skin beneath. He got down to the last button, and Draco removed his shirt entirely. His chest was heaving with deep breaths, and his nipples were pink and hard from arousal. Harry ran a hand down his chest, his abdomen, and down to his waist, drinking in every detail. Draco shivered at the touch. 

Draco patted Harry’s hands away and started unbuttoning Harry’s shirt, nimble fingers deftly working them open. He removed his shirt in no time. He still had a few scars from the first task and many from the past, and Draco observed every one of them, he reached down and kissed as many scars as he could, and Harry thought he might burst into tears. 

“I’ll do this the next time, too,” Draco commented, emphasizing that there will indeed be a next time. Harry tried not to focus on that, but rather the sensations. 

Draco proceeded to kiss down, starting from his neck all the way to the waistband of his trousers. Draco put his hands on the fastening of the trousers, only to look up at Harry once again. “Are you sure, Potter?” At that, Harry gave Draco a reassuring nod and said, “As we’re about to get into each other’s pants, I think we ought to start calling each other by our first names, though.” Draco seemed a bit taken aback at that, but he smirked and said, “As you wish, Harry.” Harry shivered as a wave of arousal coursed through him at the foreign sound of his first name on Draco’s lips. 

Draco unfastened Harry’s trousers in a quick haste, pulling them down along with his pants. Harry gasped as the pressure that was constraining his cock was lifted, his bare skin meeting cool air. Draco stopped to drink in the sight of him, and he whispered, “You’re beautiful.” He didn’t seem to have realized what he said, so Harry let that go, since he knew Draco would be embarrassed if he addressed that. Harry simply watched as Draco removed his own trousers and pants, exposing every bit of his exquisite body. The rest of Draco was just as pale as his face, if not paler. He swore he could see the veins traveling up his legs. His lines were natural and smooth, so unlike his usual edgy self. It made Harry feel so special, to be the first and only one to see him like this, right now, bare and exposed and vulnerable and so _trusting_. 

 

Draco grabbed his wand, muttered a few spells, and Harry felt the warmth of the lube coating him. He gasped and arched his back as Draco gripped his cock and coated him with the lube, grasping the sheets. After a few full strokes, Draco started to position himself, aligning himself with his cock, but Harry stopped him. 

“Wait, wait, Draco,” Harry breathed, “Don’t you have to prepare yourself?” Draco just looked towards his wand. “I used a few spells I picked up in Slytherin. Sixth years taught me.” Harry didn’t want that to be it though, he wanted it to be slow and personal and he wanted it to be him that prepared Draco. 

“I… I want to, can I?” Harry asked for permission, and Draco smiled warmly and laid down on his back. “You can certainly endeavor to, _Harry_.” Draco smirked as he emphasized the word Harry, making him blush. Harry thought it was strange — they were engaging in far more intimate activities but the name was what made him blush like a first year. 

Harry decided that he loved the sight of Draco spread out below him and that he wanted to keep this memory for an eternity. He wanted to keep Draco for an eternity. His heart stung at the vague possibility of a forever, but he promptly erased that thought. Now was not the time. 

Harry coated his fingers with some lube and looked to Draco for permission and pushed on finger in. Surely enough, Draco was already slick and loose from the spells, but it was an extraordinary feeling to touch him so intimately. 

“No one’s every touched you like this, before, only me.” Harry’s voice was deep with veneration. He felt like the luckiest man alive to be able see Draco like this, gasping and moaning beneath him. He added the second finger, followed promptly by the third. He stretched Draco out with patience, not wanting to hurt him. He pushed his fingers in further and, “ _ahhhh! Harry!_ ” Draco let out a moan. Harry figured he must’ve hit the right place, then. 

“Harry, please, I need..” Draco whined, and Harry removed his fingers without delay. As soon as his fingers left his body, Draco lamented the loss, but he flipped them over right away so that he was straddling Harry again. 

Draco, with no hesitation, aligned himself and sunk down on his cock, his mouth forming an “O” shape as he slowly took in his length. Harry moaned louder than he thought was appropriate, even with the silence charms in place, and gripped Draco’s hips. Draco sunk down fully to the hilt of his cock and he stayed there for a few silent moments, with only the sound of their rugged breathing filling the air. Draco head his head tipped back and his muscles were taut with tension. He was beautiful, just like the night in the forest. “You’re beautiful.” Harry thought out loud. If Draco heard that, he also let that slide.

Draco started moving, and Harry saw white. It was so incredibly hot and tight, Harry knew for sure that he was not going to last long. As Draco moved up and down on his cock, he thrusted up to meet his movements, earning little sultry moans from Draco in return. He was getting closer by the minute, and he knew it. “Draco, look at me,” Harry gasped out, barely managing to say the words, “I want to see your face when you come.” Draco looked down at him, his face flushed red and his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he continued to move up and down. “ _Harry_ ,” Draco cried, and Harry moved his hands to grasp Draco’s cock, stroking once, twice, and a third time and Draco stilled his movements, sucking in a deep breath as if the air got knocked out of it, and came. “ _Harry, Harry, Harry_ …” Draco chanted his name as he came, and the sight of him alone was just enough to bring Harry over the edge, and he came inside of Draco’s body, the strength of his orgasm whitening his vision for a moment and he ricocheted towards his climax with Draco’s name on his lips. 

 

*

 

Before Harry went in for the third task, Draco saw him. Harry seemed to have managed to put on an impressive façade of nonchalance, as he pulled him close and told him everything was going to be fine.

“Why are you telling me that, that’s supposed to be my line, you idiot.” Draco half-sobbed and half-argued. Harry kissed away the tears. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Really. I promise.” Harry held out a pinky finger, and Draco almost laughed at the absurdity. “Are you serious right now?” Draco said, gesturing to his hands. Harry just shrugged and nodded. Despite himself, Draco curled his own pinky finger against Harry’s, solidifying their promise. 

“You better keep this promise, Harry.” Draco reminded him as Harry left to enter the labyrinth. Harry pulled him into one last kiss, and left. 

 

*

 

Harry did keep his promise, but Harry was a wreck. Cedric Diggory had died. He died right in front of him. Harry was a wreck and Draco’s heart was breaking but he had no idea what to do. Harry was slowly piecing apart in front of him, and Draco tried his best, but he couldn't pull him together. Not on his own. 

But then he remembered. 

Harry was still in the infirmary by the time he returned. Harry didn't even budge. Either he had seen him and was still ignoring him or he just hadn’t seen him. From the way he had been acting recently, Draco vaguely guessed it was the latter. 

“Harry.” Draco called out, to no avail. “ _Harry_.” Draco called out, a bit louder and stupid closer to him, putting one hand on his shoulder. Harry finally seemed to break out of his trance and met his eyes. He smiled, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Draco’s heart broke a million times over again. He remembered when that smile used to blind him. 

“Harry, I…” Draco started, but was hesitant. What if this was stupid? It may not work. But this was Harry and he was willing to give everything a try. 

“You might think this is stupid, but… after that night, on the Yule Ball, I went back to the Potions Room and I continued making that star. I didn’t want to let it go to waste. Especially not this — you did this for me.” He waved his wand, levitating the cauldron over to the empty table and setting it down carefully. 

“I thought you might want to see it.” Draco waved his wand again, and the lid of the cauldron lifted, revealing a heavenly glow inside. Draco concentrated, and the star was lifted out from the cauldron. It was vivid, radiant, luminous, and the brightest of them all. Just like Harry. It burned too bright, and it shone too strong, but Draco loved every bit of it. It was a symbol of what they had cultivated together. Harry stared at the star in silence, either out of joy or shock, he didn’t know. 

“Harry, I know this isn't—” Draco started, but stopped when he saw tears flowing down Harry’s cheeks. Draco shifted a bit closer, closing his hands around Harry’s. 

“Draco,” Harry’s voice trembled from the tears. “Yes?” Draco replied, his hold on Harry’s hand tightening. 

“I can see them too, you know. The Thestrals.” Harry admitted. 

Draco had absolutely no idea how Harry knew about that, but he wasn’t about to push it. He could ask later. But right now, he knew what it was that Harry needed. 

“Let’s go, Harry.”

 

*

 

He took the star with him, levitating it along the way. They made their way to the Forbidden Forest, to the place Draco knew so well. He came here nearly every day since his mother had passed away. The path wasn’t so dark anymore, but he didn’t know if it was the light of the star that shone the path or simply the presence of Harry that made this journey much more bearable. 

“We’re here.” Draco announced. They saw the Thestrals approaching them. Draco smiled at the familiar sight. 

“Want to go for a ride?” Draco suggested. Harry simply nodded. 

Together, they flew the night sky. The star followed their path, floating gleefully beside them. It almost felt like it was alive. Harry sat behind him on the Thestral, his arms wrapped around his waist. It reminded him of that of the Yule Ball, but with their positions reversed. 

“I never mentioned that I’m sorry for your loss. I truly am. She was a remarkable woman. You take after her.” Harry murmured into his ear as they soared across the Great Lake. 

“Thank you.” Draco simply replied. No questions tonight. “I am, too.” 

“Did you ever think about why only those who have seen death can see the Thestrals?” Harry asked. Draco shook is head in response. “Because they’re the ones who need them.”

Draco understood with a startling clarity.

The wind swept past them, and the stars illuminated their sight, and together they fell in love.


End file.
